


Five Times Victor Slept in Yuuri's Bed, and One Time He Didn't

by Charmsilver



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, A lot of hugging and touching because lbr it's Victor and Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV Victor Nikiforov, Sleepy Cuddles, Victor Nikiforov-centric, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-09 23:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10424592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmsilver/pseuds/Charmsilver
Summary: Or, Victor is completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with Yuuri Katsuki.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes. I don't know what the hell happened here. One minute I was writing a fluffy fic about Victor sleeping in Yuuri's bed and the next minute... this happened. 
> 
> Is it just me, or is Victor still a total enigma? I want to know more about him! S2 Victor backstory, please and thank you. 
> 
> In any case, I tried to channel Victor for this fic, and it ended up disgustingly sappy, which seems about right.
> 
> May you all find someone who adores you as much as Victor adores Yuuri. That is, revoltingly so.

1  
Yuuri’s room had remained consistently off-limits ever since Victor had arrived in Hatsesu. Yuuri, it seemed, felt no compunction at shutting the door in Victor’s face on many occasions. For his part, Victor remained respectful of Yuuri’s privacy; yet he was determined to break that particular barrier between them. It seemed important somehow, like to gain Yuuri’s permission would solidify their trust in each other. And Victor was curious too – what would a space that belonged entirely to Yuuri look like?

But when the opportunity arrived, Victor was startled by how quietly it presented itself. He conceded that he had built the moment up in his head, had imagined a stammering and blushing Yuuri inviting him inside with exaggerated graciousness, apologising for not having done so earlier. Victor would have teased him after making a show of inspecting the room and declaring it to his liking (for he knew it would be).

Of course, Yuuri always had a way of surprising Victor.

They’d been at the rink for most of the day and Yuuri had pushed himself to his limits, practising jump after jump and falling more times than Victor could count. Victor had spent just as much time on the ice, guiding Yuuri and skating alongside him. By the time they finished up the rink had shut its doors for the evening, and both Yuuri and Victor were exhausted. Though Yuuri had had a gruelling practice with more failures than successes, he had managed to land the quadruple Salchow, which had lifted Yuuri’s mood considerably.

Victor had let his pride show, assuring Yuuri that the jump was beautiful, and that only he, Victor Nikiforov, could have done it better! The delicate flush that appeared high on Yuuri’s cheeks was utterly delightful, and Victor pulled him into a congratulatory hug, from which Yuuri emerged blushing even more furiously than before.

Still, by the time they finished, Yuuri’s movements off the ice were slow and careful, and when Victor removed his skates for him he saw the evidence of how hard Yuuri had worked bruised into the skin of his feet. Yuuri, who was usually embarrassed by Victor’s touches, barely even blinked when Victor’s fingers skimmed the jut of Yuuri’s reddened ankle. Instead, he stared down at Victor with steely eyes and declared that he would work harder tomorrow.

Victor, who had the wisdom to know that too much hard work could lead to a serious injury, patted Yuuri’s calf and handed him a clean pair of socks. “Tomorrow you will work has hard as I tell you to,” Victor said, standing up.

Yuuri’s eyes widened a little, but he took the offered socks and began to roll them over his sore feet.

Back at the onsen, Yuuri rushed off to have a hot soak and soothe his tired limbs. Victor took a moment to chat with Yuuri’s mother before making his own way to the spring. By the time he’d stripped off, however, Yuuri was already climbing out of the pool, his lithe body glistening with droplets of water. Bruises were forming on his hip, but they were covered up quickly by a towel as Yuuri made a hasty exit, stopping only for a moment to wish Victor an enjoyable bath.

As Yuuri walked away from him, Victor experienced a dizzying image of himself licking a stripe over the sharp jut of Yuuri’s hipbone; the thought made warmth pool low in his belly and he shook himself out of the reverie, though he couldn’t help grinning as he watched Yuuri’s retreating back.

In the water, Victor thought about Yuuri’s routine. It really was improving every day, and although his quads needed work, there was no doubt that his confidence was growing.

Victor allowed his head to fall back against the concrete; he still felt distanced from Yuuri in many ways, and longed for the intimacy they had shared at the banquet. Sober, Yuuri was much more reserved; he expressed himself with brutal honesty on the ice, but away from the rink he tended to close himself off. Victor, perhaps selfishly, wanted to open him up, to get him to express in words and actions the love that coloured his every movement on the ice.

Still, thoughts like these were nothing new, and Victor certainly wasn’t expecting anything from Yuuri that night.

Yet as he passed though the hallway of the inn on his way to his room, he was startled to see light flooding out of Yuuri’s room. The door was open! This could only be the invitation Victor had been looking for, and he dashed into his room to throw on a t-shirt and sweatpants in record time.

Half expecting to find the door had been shut by the time he re-emerged into the hallway, Victor was pleased to see that it remained ajar. Thrumming with excitement, Victor waltzed into the doorway and stood on the threshold between room and hallway, his hands clasped together at his chest.

“Yuuri!” he said, catching sight of him on the bed, legs stretched out in front of him and sports tape strewn over the bed. He had earbuds in and his tongue was poking out between his teeth as he wrapped the tape around his ankle. When Victor said his name he looked up and his face brightened, making Victor’s heart leap.

“Hi, Victor,” he said, pulling the buds from his ears. “Can you do my other foot? It’s easier when someone else does it.” He gestured vaguely at his right foot and Victor sprang forward, recognising Yuuri’s request immediately for what it was.

Yuuri could tape his own feet without any trouble; he must have done it many times before. No, this was Yuuri meeting Victor in the middle, offering him a little piece of himself.

Victor sat cross-legged on the bed and lifted Yuuri’s abused foot into his lap. Sighing, Yuuri lay on his back and let his eyes slide shut, and although his body was relaxed, his cheeks were flushed as Victor ministered gently to his aching feet.

He took the opportunity to gaze around Yuuri’s room. It was remarkably tidy, really, and not particularly extraordinary. There were bits of cellotape stuck to the wall, little triangles of paper trapped beneath them as if Yuuri had ripped a number of posters down in haste.

“Yuuri,” Victor began, finishing off the tape and giving Yuuri’s ankle a light squeeze. “Why is there nothing on your walls?” He was being facetious, and he knew it, but he loved to tease Yuuri, especially when it made him blush.

Yuuri stiffened and cracked an eye open, face a rosy pink. “Um. I.”

“Where are all your posters of me?” Victor demanded. “A dedicated fan like you must have some posters of me! Perhaps I should get some sent –“

“No!” Yuuri sat up abruptly, face delightfully red now. “I had posters of you! I mean – I have some…” he trailed off, refusing to meet Victor’s eye.

“I knew it!” He pouted. “So where are they?”

“Um.” Yuuri placed a hand over his face. “I took them down. I didn’t want you to see them and think that I –“

“That you were a fan of mine? But why not! I’m flattered that you admire me so much, Yuuri.” Victor said that last bit with a bit of a purr in his voice; he couldn’t help it.

Yuuri made a small hiccupping sound and flopped back against the pillows.

“It’s too embarrassing,” Yuuri confessed to the ceiling. “For so long you were like this – this – god to me. And now you’re here and you’re…”

“Just a normal person?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No. It’s not that. It’s... it’s like the tables have turned almost. I mean, not really, but –“ he huffed in frustration and Victor unfolded his legs so he could lie on the bed beside Yuuri, who was still glaring holes in the ceiling. Victor touched his fingers to the underside of Yuuri’s chin and hummed, smiling as Yuuri tilted his head to face him. “You think I’m a good skater, don’t you?” Yuuri asked, hesitation in his voice.

Victor skimmed his fingers over Yuuri’s cheek, then down across his collar. “You have a passion I haven’t seen in anybody else, Yuuri. When you skate, it’s impossible to look away.”

Yuuri’s eyes were bright and he smiled happily. “You see, Victor? That’s what I always thought about _you_.”

They gazed at one another for several minutes, Victor’s heart pumping a joyful a tune. Yuuri eventually reached for his iPod and popped an earbud into one of Victor’s ears, and the other into his own. Music filtered through, a soft piano melody that reminded Victor of _Yuri on Ice_ , and his thoughts began to grow hazy. Yuuri’s body was a warm presence beside him, and Victor’s eyes fell shut, his hand still resting over Yuuri’s heart.


	2. Chapter 2

2

It only really occurred to Victor on the plane that Maccachin might be dead by the time he reached Hatsesu. This possibility, too terrible to comprehend, left Victor with a hollow feeling in his chest. It felt as though his heart needed to be in two places at once – in Moscow with Yuuri, coaching him through his free skate, and in Hatsesu with Maccachin – yet right now Victor was in neither of those places, stuck instead in a metal cylinder, suspended somewhere between the two.

He spent most of the flight gazing out of the window, fists clenched in his lap, until the woman beside him asked in stilted English if he was okay.

At the moment of landing, Victor switched his phone on and called Yuuri’s sister. Mari answered immediately and gave Victor the good news.

“Maccachin’s going to be okay.”

Tension drained from Victor’s body and he felt the first prickle of tears in his eyes. Blinking them away, he thanked Mari and made his way to the train station, thoughts turning once more to Yuuri, who would be performing his free skate in a matter of hours. At last year’s Grand Prix, Yuuri had lost his dog right before the free skate. Grief, combined with Yuuri’s fragile confidence, had caused him to botch his routine and finish last.

Seated on the train to Hatsesu, Victor silently gave thanks that Maccachin had pulled through, and that Yuuri could perform his free skate without that fear hanging over him.

But Victor ached to be there with him. He yearned to see Yuuri perform, and worried that he’d let his anxiety get the better of him.

Yuuri was strong, though; he didn’t need to Victor there to overcome his nerves. And when Victor set eyes on Maccachin, still sore from the ordeal and curled up on a bed of towels and pillows, he knew that Yuuri had been right, that he’d never have forgiven himself if he hadn’t returned to Japan.

As Victor knelt down to wrap Maccachin in a hug, he felt those tears surfacing again and this time he let them fall, soaking into the poodle’s soft fur.

“You scared me,” he whispered to into the shaggy coat, and Maccachin thumped his tail slowly against the floor, looking up at Victor with big, apologetic eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, wiping the tears from his cheeks and fixing a smile on his face.

“Yuuri’s on soon,” Mari said, peering around the doorway. “You coming?”

Victor nodded, smoothing his hand over Maccachin’s fur once more. “Come on, let’s watch Yuuri skate,” he coaxed, and Maccachin got to his feet, following Victor out the door.

Ensconced in the Katsuki family living room, Victor watched Yuuri with that familiar ache in his chest. Victor could tell that Yuuri’s mind was on other things, and wondered if Yuuri was thinking about him.

The entire room let out a collective _oof_ when Yuuri touched down on his last jump, but they cheered for him anyway as he collapsed onto the ice, clearly exhausted. At the kiss and cry Yuuri seemed distant, but once his score was announced – 172.87 – he hugged Yakov, and Victor heard the quiet _spasibo_.

 _That should be me,_ Victor thought as the camera panned to the next competitor. _I should be there for Yuuri right now._

After the competition was over, and Yuuri’s spot in the GP Final had been confirmed, Victor retreated to his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, Maccachin not far behind.

He thought about Yuuri, returning to the hotel alone and falling into bed. What would he be thinking about? Victor imagined himself there, sprawled on the other bed, talking Yuuri through his performance, praising him and making suggestions. Yuuri would be lying on his back, eyes to the ceiling, nodding resolutely at everything Victor said.

Fumbling in the dark for a moment, Victor reached for his phone and switched it on. Squinting at the bright screen, he quickly typed a message to Yuuri.

_Congrats on qualifying for the GP, Yuuri! I’m so proud of you ☺_

He sent it off before he could change his mind, and flopped back onto the bed, one hand tangling itself in Maccachin’s fur.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of Yuuri consumed him.

He knew he wasn’t a great coach yet and that he didn’t always do the right thing, especially at competitions when Yuuri’s anxiety flared up. Victor found it hard to relate, since he’d never been nervous like Yuuri.

But there was something else too. Ever since the Cup of China, when Victor had kissed Yuuri, there had been a new kind of energy between them. Yuuri was more affectionate, more responsive to Victor’s teases and touches and willing to reciprocate. And although there had been no more kisses, Victor was certain that something was blossoming between them.

He wanted to kiss Yuuri right now, he realised.

He missed Yuuri.

At this thought, Victor’s eyes flew open. He blinked up at the dark shadows on the ceiling and drew a hand across his face. Then, an idea struck him.

Quietly, he slipped out of bed and made his way down the hallway, Maccachin padding along behind him. He pushed Yuuri’s door open, revealing a dark and silent room; the bed was neatly made but it looked inviting, and Victor slid under the covers with a happy sigh. Maccachin heaved himself onto the bed too and wormed his way under Victor’s arm.

Victor turned his face into the pillow and breathed in through his nose. It smelt like Yuuri, and Victor felt himself growing drowsy. Snuggled under Yuuri’s blankets, and surrounded by his invisible presence, Victor quickly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not! There will be an excess of cuddles next chapter to make up for the lack of cuddles here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor? Viktor?

3

Victor was clingy as all hell on their way back to Hatsesu from the airport. When Yuuri emerged from the security gate and Victor was finally able to wrap him in his arms, it took nearly all his strength just to let go.

On the train Yuuri pressed close to Victor the whole way, sleeping off the travel fatigue. Victor kept his arms wrapped snug around Yuuri’s body, holding him as close as he could, overwhelmed with love and happiness.

Yuuri had been tugging at Victor’s heart since the previous year’s GP banquet, but his affection had gradually developed into something more powerful, and now he found he could hardly think straight with Yuuri curled so close to his side, his shoulders rising and falling with every quiet breath.

Grinning, Victor kissed the top of Yuuri’s head and hummed contentedly. They still had a lot of practice to do before the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona, but Victor was looking forward to exploring a new side of their relationship alongside Yuuri’s training.

At that moment the train lurched and Yuuri stirred awake, blushing when he realised that he’d fallen asleep against Victor’s chest. Victor couldn’t help but smile, and Yuuri returned it two-fold, surprising Victor by settling in even closer.

“Are we arriving soon?” He asked, nuzzling his face into Victor’s coat.

Victor pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. “Ten minutes. Sleep more, if you want.”

“Hmm,” Yuuri responded. He let his eyes shut again, but the smile remained fixed on his face until the train stopped in Hatsesu.

Victor nudged him awake and they stumbled from the train, arms still wrapped around each other’s backs. Maccachin gambolled ahead playfully, already familiar with the Hatsesu station.

Yuuri laughed and squeezed Victor. “I’m really glad he’s okay,” he said as Maccachin chased some seagulls from the pavement. “I was so worried…”

“It would take more than a few steamed buns to take Maccachin down!” Victor assured him, and Yuuri nodded stiffly.

“He looks like nothing has happened at all,” Yuuri murmured.

“That’s my Maccachin!” Victor laughed and grabbed Yuuri’s hand; together they chased after the poodle, who had stopped to bark at the seagulls that were now wheeling about in the sky. Yuuri began to laugh too, until they were both gasping for breath, stumbling gracelessly over the asphalt.

When they caught up to the dog, Yuuri knelt down and hugged Maccachin tightly, burrowing his face in the curly fur. Victor knew that he was thinking of Vicchan, and as he stood up, Victor saw him dab the corners of his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

Victor stepped forward and wrapped Yuuri in a hug from behind, earning him a startled squeak. But Yuuri relaxed into the embrace, reaching up to hold Victor’s hands between his own.

They stood like that for a minute, until Yuuri broke away, shyly extending his hand for Victor to take.

***

After a lot of cheering, celebratory drinks, and a huge congratulatory dinner put on by Yuuri’s family, Victor was definitely ready to crash, and he could tell Yuuri was too.

On the pretence of a hard day’s practice tomorrow, Victor declared to the family that Yuuri needed his beauty sleep, and that it was now time for them all to wish him goodnight.

Yuuri, whose eyes had a sort of glazed look about them, accepted the final few _congratulations_! with a mumbled _thank you_ , and allowed Victor to steer him towards his bedroom, where he promptly fell straight onto the bed.

“Did you sleep in my bed?” Yuuri asked him, evidently not too tired to notice the rumpled sheets, and Victor blushed lightly.

“I missed you,” he said, and Yuuri’s eyes seemed to sparkle.

Gently, Victor coaxed Yuuri out of his shirt and jeans. Once undressed, Yuuri curled up under the covers, but his eyes remained open, fixed on Victor’s face.

“Yuuri,” Victor began, brushing a strand of hair out of Yuuri’s face. “May I sleep with you tonight?”

And although Yuuri blushed deliciously red, he nodded, rolling over towards the wall so that Victor could crawl in beside him. Victor removed his own shirt and pants, then snuggled under the covers, pressing his bare chest to Yuuri’s naked back. He touched his hand first to Yuuri’s stomach, then curled it upwards to rest over his chest. Yuuri exhaled, and then his body seemed to melt against Victor’s, warm, relaxed, and trusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your lovely comments and kudos. You're all delicious pirozhki <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gets a little steamy in this chapter, but it's pretty inexplicit.

4

“JJ is very confident,” Victor was saying as Yuuri pushed the door open to their hotel room. “He reminds me of myself, actually. I mean – I’m a lot less arrogant!” Victor added, laughing. “Don’t you think so, Yuuri?”

Yuuri didn’t respond. He had dropped Victor’s various shopping bags on the floor and was now perched on the edge of his bed, hands clenched on his knees. “Yuuri?” Victor leaned in towards him so their faces were almost level. “Are you worried about beating him? I know he has a higher base score than you but I have complete faith in your routine!”

Victor tapped Yuuri’s cheek and coaxed his chin up, gold ring glinting beneath the yellow hotel lamplight. Yuuri had been quiet since they left the restaurant, and Victor had put it down to nerves, but his eyes weren’t anxious. “Yuuri?”

“Did you mean what you said? About – about the rings?” Yuuri blurted out the words in a rush, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks immediately afterwards.

Victor blinked.

What had he said?

Oh.

He’d said they were engagement rings. That they would get married after Yuuri won gold. Phichit had just about exploded with excitement.

Victor’s mouth was suddenly dry. He sought out Yuuri’s hand, the one wearing the matching ring, and held it tightly between his own.

“Honestly, Yuuri, I wasn’t being serious at the time…” He trailed off, adjusting himself so that he was kneeling between Yuuri’s legs, Yuuri’s hand still clasped in his.

“But,” he continued, beaming up at Yuuri, who had tensed at Victor’s words. “I want to look after you forever.” Yuuri’s eyelashes were wet, and Victor caught a tear just before it slid over his cheek.

“Are you – proposing, Victor?” Yuuri asked, a hitch to his voice.

Victor thought about their reunion in the airport, weeks ago now, and how their relationship had changed and grown since then. _Please be my coach until I retire!_ Yuuri had beseeched him, and Victor had laughed, saying it sounded like a marriage proposal.

And now, they were here, and Victor realised that yes, he wanted to be by Yuuri’s side for as long as he could. Victor pressed a thumb to the corner of Yuuri’s eye, dashing away more tears before they could fall.

“Yes,” he breathed, and Yuuri gasped. But Victor raised one finger and shot Yuuri a challenging grin. “But it’s conditional!” He touched his fingers to Yuuri’s chest, right where a gold medal would sit. “When you win gold at the Grand Prix Final, I’ll marry you.”

Yuuri surged forward, his long arms coming to wrap around Victor’s shoulders, and his lips pressed against the shell of Victor’s ear.

“I’ll win the gold,” Yuuri said in a low, sultry whisper. “I’ll skate my best and I’ll win the gold for you!” He pulled back then, and there was a look in his eye that Victor had only ever seen on the ice when Yuuri was skating to _Eros_.

Victor licked his lips, and watched, fascinated, as Yuuri’s eyes followed the movement.

Arousal licked up Victor’s spine like a forest fire. They’d not gone any further than kissing in their relationship so far, and Victor had been content for Yuuri to set the pace, but right now Yuuri looked positively hungry with lust. He grabbed Victor by the lapels of his coat, mashed their lips together, and dragged Victor onto the bed until he was lying flush on top of Yuuri’s body. This achieved, Yuuri began to shove the coat away, fumbling to free Victor’s arms from their sleeves.

Victor happily obliged, shucking the coat onto the floor and leaning over to meet Yuuri in a frantic kiss again. After a lot of eager fumbling, Yuuri eventually managed to unbutton Victor’s shirt, which also joined his coat on the floor.

Though delighted with this turn of events, Victor pulled away from Yuuri’s spit-slicked lips and grabbed his wandering hands to still them.

“Yuuri,” he murmured, taking in the breathless man beneath him. “There’s no need to rush through this; we have time – we can take it slow.” He pushed Yuuri’s coat open, slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and ran his palm down Yuuri’s chest, over his abdomen and stomach, and rested it just above his groin.

Yuuri made a tiny, mouse-like noise, and Victor leaned in to kiss him again, but this time he set the pace: slow and sensual, with plenty of opportunity to explore each other’s mouths. Yuuri moaned appreciatively and fisted a hand in Victor’s hair, which made Victor gasp.

This, as far as Victor knew, was Yuuri’s first time, and he wanted it to be good for him.

They kissed and explored each other’s bodies for a long time, their clothes falling to the floor one by one until both were bare. Victor brought Yuuri to the edge with his hands, determined to start at a level that Yuuri was comfortable with, and when he came, Victor thought it might have been the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Yuuri spread out beneath him, fingers gripping the pillow above his head, body trembling as Victor coaxed the last ripple of pleasure from him.

After taking a moment to recover, Yuuri reciprocated in kind, his deft fingers pleasuring Victor with ease, until he could hold out no longer and came with Yuuri’s name on his lips.

Afterwards they gravitated together, limbs tangling beneath the sheets and faces tucked inwards. Both of them were flushed and breathing hard, and Victor felt happier than he’d ever been in his life when Yuuri hugged him close and whispered into the space between them.

“I’m going to win that gold.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wtf Yuuri.
> 
> This is so sappy. I'm sorry.

5

_After the Final… let’s end this._

Victor’s vision was growing blurry; he couldn’t understand what Yuuri was saying. End this? Did he mean… them? He couldn’t, could he?

_How can you ask me to return to the ice while saying you’re retiring?!_

“Yuuri,” he croaked, his hand still gripping Yuuri’s shoulder. “I thought –“ _I thought you wanted to be with me forever_. “I thought you understood me.”

Yuuri blinked, then nodded slowly, his eyes staring at the floor. “You want to return to the ice, Victor. I saw you today, watching the others. You –“

“So what if I do?” Victor spat. “Do you really think I would end us so I could make a comeback?” He raised the finger, on which rested the gold ring. “Do you think so little of this, Yuuri?”

Yuuri looked shocked. “I’m holding you back, Victor,” he said, shaking his head now. “You need to make your decision without thinking of me.”

Victor deflated. He sank onto the bed beside Yuuri, where only last night Victor had experienced his most joyful moment. “I’m afraid I can’t do that Yuuri. Nor can you, it seems.”

“Huh?” Yuuri glanced up, his brows knotted together. “What do you mean?”

“You only want to retire because you don’t want to get in my way.”

“That’s true,” Yuuri conceded. “But you can’t be my coach if you decide to go back.”

“Maybe,” Victor mused. He wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, ridding his cheeks of the last of the tears. “But whatever happens, I want to be with you Yuuri. I thought I had made that clear. I thought you felt the same.”

“Victor.” Yuuri’s eyes were swimming with tears now, and Victor smiled shakily at him, reaching out to hold his hand.

“We can make our decisions after tomorrow. We can find a way to make it work, I’m sure of it. You’re going to win that gold, Yuuri, and I’m going to kiss it. And then I’m going to marry you. I’m not thwarted so easily, you know.”

Yuuri laughed wetly and kissed Victor on the shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Victor laughed quietly, hushing Yuuri with a kiss. “You should get some sleep, Yuuri, if you want to win tomorrow.”

Yuuri nodded, but reached for Victor’s arm. “Stay with me.”

“I’ll be right here,” Victor assured him; he crawled under the covers and opened his arms to Yuuri, who fell into them with a sigh.

In truth, Victor already knew what his decision would be. He did want to return to the ice; he missed the roar of the crowd, the extravagance, the feeling of having all eyes on him alone.

But he would do everything to stay with Yuuri, too. They would make it work; Yuuri still had years in him yet, and his talent was too good to retire now.

Whatever happened, they would stay together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably rename this fic: 'Five Times Victor Slept in Yuuri's Bed, and Many, Many Times He Slept in a Bed Belonging to Them Both'. But it's a bit long-winded so then again, maybe not.
> 
> Anyway, thanks all for reading, I hope you enjoyed the squishiness.
> 
> Next up: 5+1 Otayuri fic.

+1

Truth be told, coaching Yuuri while trying to train for his own comeback was even more exhausting than Victor had anticipated it would be.

He spent his days split between the two: mornings were for coaching Yuuri, and afternoons were spent practising his own routines with Yakov. His schedule was brutal, and he returned home every evening completely worn out.

Still, he was happy. Both he and Yuuri got what they wanted, and they were together; they’d even moved into Victor’s old apartment in St Petersburg, which now seemed much more welcoming and homely than it ever did when Victor lived by himself.

Yuuri was working as hard as ever. His programs this season were beautiful, though quite different to _Eros_ and _Yuri on Ice_. Whenever Victor watched him skate, he felt pride and love in equal measure, and he spent a lot of time resisting the urge to catch Yuuri in an embrace, or kiss him senseless.

Admittedly, he frequently failed at keeping his hands to himself, much to Yurio’s constant disgust.

In the evenings, when Victor had finally managed to drag himself through the door, Yuuri would always greet him with a smile and a hug. After dinner they’d settle on the couch, usually to watch some silly TV programme, like _The Great British Bake-Off_ , which they both thought utterly ridiculous, but mouth-watering all the same.

Sometimes they’d take a bath together in Victor’s enormous tub, but despite the excess of naked skin, they rarely engaged in anything more than lazy kisses. Yuuri would tell Victor about his day, express his skating goals and promise to make Victor proud (which Victor always thought funny, because how could he be any prouder than he already is?); Victor would complain about Yakov, or tell Yuuri something funny that Yurio did that day. And then they’d just lie there for a while, the water growing colder with each passing minute, but neither willing to leave their sleepy cuddle.

Eventually they’d find their way to bed and resume their tangle of limbs. Victor slept so well nowadays, with Yuuri close to him every night.

He thought about the first time he slept in Yuuri’s bed. A happy accident. A moment of trust. Victor had slept in Yuuri’s bed more times than he could count since then.

But now the bed they shared was Victor’s, although in truth he thought of it as theirs.

With thoughts like these running through his head, and Yuuri’s damp hair tickling his chin, Victor always fell asleep quickly, lulled by the sound of Yuuri’s breathing, a soft and unremitting echo of the sea.


End file.
